Zachin

Zachin Cinderssol
the renegade, title and roles in the clan
(tundra female - adult)

When trying to be delicate, dragons describe Zachin as one to ‘march to her own beat’.

This is sugarcoating. She’s loud, unapologetic, and frequently abrasive; she conforms to no authority and laughs in the face of fair play. She’s loyal to whatever side will put the most padding in her coinpurse, and has no qualms flipping allegiance the moment hers fails to serve her. At her most brutal, she eagerly takes an eye for an eye. And to top it all off, when she really goes in for the long con, she knows how to play her breed’s stereotype to avoid the blame. Who would suspect a friendly, airheaded, daft little tundra?

So, when the Forgemasters of the Great Furnace Forgeworks closed their gates and murmurs of revolt began brewing, Zachin was delighted. Like just about every other smith in their employ, she’d been skimped on her pay a few too many times, and beyond her simple inclination to greed, there was nothing Zachin hated more than being stolen from. The brewing civil war gave her exactly the freedom she needed to exact revenge. While the bulk of the rebellion worked to hold the nascent volcano from the Forgemasters, she threw herself into stirring up more trouble on the mainland. Embellishments of their wrongdoing were pasted on every street corner and bent into every ear. Armor found its way at an alarming rate into the general populace – to be paid back with interest, of course – and when the opportunity to steal outright from dragons she perceived to have stolen from her arose? Well, she certainly wasn’t going to look a gift cerdae in the mouth. Eventually this escalated into her main means of aggravating tensions. She gave away her hauls to avoid being traced but made a point of leaving calling cards, just to be sure her victims got her increasingly flippant message. This continued right up until she was caught red-handed. Even as she was chased out of Ashfall, she found ways to mock her pursuers.

The most dogged dragons in the chase peeled back off by the time she and her guardian took flight over the Water flight’s borders, freeing her up to start pitching the cause to any clans she visited in her newly migrant lifestyle. Her ejection didn’t bother her a bit, though the lack of a properly hot forge grated on her creative nerves a little more than she liked to let on.

The boiling river is what convinced Zachin to stay put, by the time she sauntered into Coillenidus’s borders. It was the first source of heat outside the Waste that could approach what she needed to work, and her timing had her anxiously waved into the clan’s ranks, promising her comfortable pay and resources if she’d provide armor and weapons for their war. Seeing no downside, she accepted.